Schmooky
by alaisiaga
Summary: James is easily distracted by shiny things, Quidditch, and Lily Evans. She sits in front of him in Charms, which raises such interesting questions as: will James ever pay attention to Professor Flitwick? and, most importantly, what shampoo does Lily use?


**A/N:** Heyla! I got the idea for this little fic from something my sister accidentally said.. the end result was what was probably a very mentally scarring Charms class for poor Lily. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.

And, of course.. :takes a deep breath: Miranda Flamel is an original character of my own design. Natalie Blackwood was stolen from my younger sister, as were parts of this particular characterization of Lily. Lily Evans, James Potter, Remus Lupin, Peter Pettigrew, poor, ignored Professor Flitwick and his class, along with the rest of Hogwarts, as well as anything else I may have forgotten by mistake, are all the intellectual property of J. K. Rowling. No offense is meant by my clumsy manipulation of her world.

* * *

**  
( s c h m o o k y )**

Professor Flitwick's voice had faded to a slight buzz in James's head as he lectured on the finer points of Banishing Charms. James was thinking about other, more important things.. namely, Lily Evans, who was sitting in front of him.

Lily Evans was, basically, perfect in every way. She was the smartest girl in Hogwarts. She was the most beautiful, too, with such lovely green eyes, perfectly almond-shaped and fringed with thick lashes. And her hair..

James loved Lily's hair. Someone less enamored with it could term it merely "red". But that word hardly did it justice. Calling Lily's hair "just red" was like calling the Mona Lisa "just a sketch". Lily's hair was like the rays of the rising sun made solid. It rippled and cascaded down her back in waves and ringlets, like tangled skeins of silk. Each time she passed him in the hall, it would flare out behind her, and sometimes he could catch the delicate scent of flowers when it brushed against him. It looked so soft, so smooth, so silken..

"James. James!" hissed Sirius. James realized he had been leaning forward in his desk, reaching toward Lily's hair. He quickly turned the gesture into the first inconspicuous action that came to mind—raising his hand.

Unfortunately for James, this turned out to be rather conspicuous indeed, as Professor Flitwick called on him with a squeaky, "Yes, Mr. Potter?"

James attempted to simultaneously curse mentally and do some quick thinking. Then he realized that, as he hadn't been paying attention to today's lecture (and, indeed, all of Professor Flitwick's lectures this year.. but who could blame him, sitting behind the most beautiful girl in the world?), he should probably ditch the mental cursing and focus on the quick thinking. "I.. uh.. was.. just thinking..."

"Yes, Mr. Potter?" Professor Flitwick asked, in the supremely patient tone of voice he reserved for James and the exceptionally dense.

"What if the object you're trying to banish.. is.. uh.. the same thing that someone else.. is.. is.. trying to summon?" James finished triumphantly. Flushed with pride, he chanced a glimpse at Lily. She had buried her face in her Charms textbook, apparently unable to take how truly awesome, handsome, intelligent, and otherwise perfect for her he was. The sigh he heard was not one of exasperation; rather, it was one of complete and utter love and adoration.

Natalie Blackwood, sitting next to Lily, had one eyebrow quirked as she looked at James, when a thump took her attention from James's victory over Charms. Sirius was laughing so hard that he had fallen out of his chair. Luckily, this was quite a common occurrence in Professor Flitwick's class, especially when that class was attended by Sirius Black. "I'm okay," Sirius said, weak from laughter.

Peter, meanwhile, was gazing raptly at James. "That is _totally_ a great question," he said.

Lily muttered, "No, it _totally_ isn't. You just think so because you don't understand. Anything. _Ever._"

James was suddenly crestfallen. Perhaps he had misjudged the sigh that had escaped from his love's roseate lips? Then he remembered: he was James Potter, Chaser Extraordinaire. _Every_ girl wanted him.

"If you'll recall, Mr. Potter," said Professor Flitwick, "I had already addressed that. You see, it's quite simple…"

James quickly tuned Professor Flitwick out again, still focused on how he had thoroughly vanquished Charms. This latest accomplishment could only help his goal of winning Lily's heart. By proving his supreme mastery of Charms, Lily's favourite subject, James was well on the way to securing her undying devotion.

And, perhaps, if all went as planned, earning permission to touch her hair.

Oh, Lily's hair. He could feel exactly how it would twirl and loop and slide through his fingers, like finest threads of spun copper dyed in the tides of morning. (That was good; he made a mental note to incorporate that into one of his hidden collection of sonnets to Lily's hair.) It was so silky, so shiny, so smooth.. it was so much of all three that none of the words could fully describe it.

Luckily, James never let the limitations of the English language hamper him from creating new words when the need was imperative, as it clearly was now.

Lily's hair was, indeed, schmooky.

He tried the word out, whispering it under his breath. It seemed to fit; in fact, it seemed right at home among the soft half-curls of Lily's hair.

_Wait.. Lily's hair?_

Suddenly James realized that his imagination was not as good as he thought it was; he was actually leaning forward, holding Lily's hair in his hands, sniffing it, and muttering, "Schmooky." Sirius had been attempting to get his attention without attracting anyone else's, especially Lily's.

Unfortunately, it was too late.

Lily turned her head around, slowly, a combination of sheer horror and utter loathing on her face. James quickly dropped the handfuls of hair he was cradling, though a few strands remained on the sleeves of his sweater. "Um.. schmooky?" he said with a slightly apologetic smile.

Luckily, the bell rang just then, and it drowned out a good deal of the probably very angry words that Lily said, and made her dramatic storming out slightly less noticeable.

Nat shook her head, half-grinning, then ran to catch up with Lily. Sirius was cracking up, trying to put his textbook away. Peter, who apparently had dozed off but was woken by the bell, said sleepily, "Did I miss something?"

James shook his head, and with a sigh, said, "Let's go talk to Remus."

* * *

"And so," said Remus, trying not to laugh, "you came to the Marauders' resident lycanthropic psychologist in his temporary office in the hospital wing." As it was the day after the full moon, Remus had spent the day in the hospital wing, and his three friends were now clustered around his bed. "Even though Sirius is the only one with more experience with girls than you, James."

"Well, yes," said James, toying with a glass of water on the small table next to Remus' bed. "But Lily doesn't like him, so I don't think it would be prudent to ask advice from him."

"At least she can look at you without visibly shuddering, Moony" said Sirius.

"Maybe," said Remus, "that's because I don't grab her hair in the middle of Charms, sniff it, and then make up words."

"But you have to admit, that question _was_ rather smashing," Peter said.

"No," Remus replied. "I don't have to admit anything. That _really_," he said, with a tone of voice remarkably like the one Flitwick reserved for James, "has to be one of the stupidest questions I've ever heard."

* * *

Miri, who was in the middle of Transfiguration homework when Hurricane Lily hit the Gryffindor common room, was smiling slightly. "Aw, that's cute!" she said, then, after a glare from Lily, coughed and amended, "I mean.. horrible. Simply horrible. The depravity of that boy knows no bounds."

Lily nodded with an air of grim satisfaction.

Nat, who seemed impervious to Lily's patented glares-of-death, said, "You know, if James Potter was playing with _my_ hair during class, I'd—"

"_You_," said Miri, "would take him off to a broom closet and snog him."

Nat paused, offended for a moment, then smiled and said, "Yeah, probably."

"But he _sniffed_ me!" cried Lily, deeply affronted. A few people at the tables scattered about the room turned and looked at her strangely. She, contemplating the deep offense committed against her, did not notice.

"Ah, poor Lily," Miri said, and reached out to pat her friend's head.

"Yes, poor Lily, indeed," Nat said sarcastically. "Suffering the attentions of the cutest Gryffindor Chaser." Catching a glimpse of Cameron White, a seventh-year Chaser and current Quidditch captain, she hastily amended, "Cutest chaser in our year. Excuse me, I have.. things to do." She hurried across to where Cameron was sitting.

"He _sniffed_ me," Lily muttered darkly.

"Don't worry. Hopefully, he'll grow out of it." Miri thought for a moment. "Well, either that or get worse.. but with a bit of luck, he won't. So, chin up, _Schmooky_," she said with an evil grin.

Lily buried her face in her hands. "Why can't I have a _normal_ person obsessed with me?"

Miri shook her head as she gathered up her homework. "You don't want that. Normal people aren't any fun."


End file.
